The Pursuit of One Certain Happy Ending
by Harmony4life
Summary: It's drawing to an end. The boy-who-lived must die at the hand of none other than the Dark Lord. There is no happy ending for the hero, unless...


**Disclaimer: nothing of my own. They're all in JK Rowling's possession. The sole reason for playing is that I just need to see the world in Harmony**

The ground gave a violent jerk as he was thrown back to the tumbledown headmaster's office, a swirl of black and white filling his vision. One single word echoing in his head, he felt bile rising in his throat. Still sprawling on the cold ground, he retched, taking a whiff of pungent smell in his nostrils as the only indication that he was actually conscious. Heaving a last sigh of resignation, he hoisted himself up off the floor, scratching his palm on a sharp glass chip. He absently curled his hands in tight fists, a hint of steel in his eyes, as blood trickled from a small gash on his right cheek to match with scarlet drops falling to the ground.

He made resolute steps out of the room, passing the broken gargoyle, down the circular stone staircase, demolished mortar crunching angrily beneath his feet. He never stopped until he saw them cuddling on a moderately undamaged step. He stayed silent briefly, watching his best friend put a protective arm around her while the temptation of disavowal threatened to break him down again. He neither moved nor let out any sound, but, all of a sudden, she turned to his direction. She immediately jumped out of Ron's hold, her face, though smudged with dirt, blanched upon catching his eyes.

"Harry," She exclaimed nervously, "what's happened?" Her voice turned quiet in a near whisper, "Professor Snape's memories, i-is there anything he wanted to tell you?"

Ron might not have heard her from the way the redhead knitted his brows confusedly, and leaned closer trying to catch her words, yet he could easily make out what she said, just looking at her lips and tears welling up in her eyes. He couldn't do anything but give a grim nod, his soul drained of every hope.

"NO!" She flew up the stairs to grab his shoulders before sweeping his bang off his forehead, and rubbing at his scar rather harshly, "No, no, Harry. It can't be…" She soon got hysterical, shaking her head vigorously, thick curls bouncing around her mournful face, "No, don't believe him! Snape never liked you…He might have tampered with his memories. He might …he…" She trailed off at the miserable look in his eyes. Her shoulders heaving uncontrollably, she slumped into his arms, her voice muffled with tears, "Please, Harry! Please tell me it's not true…"

His wounded hand gripping her back through her thick jacket, pressing her closer to him, he bit his lower lip hard, swallowing down the coppery taste, unable to utter a single word of comfort to her. He looked at his best friend over her shoulder. Ron quickly averted his eyes to the ground, a pained look on his face, clearing his throat before speaking, a touch of doubt in his voice, "You can't go there by yourself, mate…Hermione's right. We're… in this together."

He shook his head imperceptibly, willing Ron to see the sincerity in his eyes, when his best friend looked back up at him. Nearly a decade of friendship between two young men condensed into that moment, when they openly shared their affection for the girl in his arm, one promising to take care of her at the behest of the other.

He slowly pulled away, but she kept tugging at his shirt, wordlessly pleading with him not to let go. Holding back the tears stinging in his eyes, he grasped her hand, feeling warm blood slick between their connected skins. He couldn't bear looking at her, so he turned to Ron instead.

Ironically, the charismatic DA leader in him somehow came alive in the most hopeless moment. Drawing strength from the feel of her delicate hand in his, he stood tall, fixing a determined look at his best friend, sending Ron a belated response, his voice firm and clear, "There is no time for mourning. We have suffered tragic loss but we will gain, soon. You two stay and keep fighting! Protect Hogwarts at all costs! I have to face him and finish this, for good!" He paused, contemplating the gloomy situation, before continuing, a lump locked in his throat, "You two are my best friends, and also the two most important people in the world to me. Be safe!"

Another sob was heard from her as he was fighting the urge to hold her again. Nodding at Ron, he turned to leave before squeezing her hand the last time. One thing he regretted most the second he rushed down the crumbled stairs was the fact that he had avoided looking into her eyes the entire time whereas he was quite certain that he would never get a chance to see those beautiful eyes again.

He started to run, away from her beseeching gaze branded on his back.

* * *

He let go of her hand so abruptly that it fell limply back to her side, leaving her almost toppling when Ron quickly approached her. Time stood still, as she replayed the image of him thrust backwards under the force of the killing curse in slow motion inside her head, her whole being numb. Watching the familiar blurry figure getting father from her, she felt like the world would come to an end had she failed to stop him.

She stared unseeingly at Ron, sheer horror written all over her face, prompting him to release his grip on her arm. She drew in a sharp breath, not waiting any moment to race after him, his farewell hug imprinted in her mind. It was merely half a minute later that she spotted him taking a right turn towards the corridor leading to the main entrance.

"Harry, wait!" She gave a desperate cry without thinking at all.

As soon as he turned around, she launched herself at him, grabbing both of his hands, imploration gleaming through the veil of tears, "Please…Harry, let me go with you! You can't…can't just leave m-me! Please…" She choked up when he sent her an apologetic look, "Harry, how am I supposed to live without you?"

"You won't ever have to." He croaked, tears mingled with blood coursing down his cheeks. "I am always with you, wherever I am." His tender voice made her knees go weak as he pressed his lips on hers in a lingering chaste kiss.

Blood, sweat and tears was she rather too familiar with, but she never imagined the harmony of those three from him could give her the sweetest and most divine taste. Deepest feelings bursting in her heart, she was about to blurt them all out, when he laid a finger against her lips.

"Please, Hermione, don't say anything…just yet!" His voice was hoarse, his emerald eyes shining with unshed tears, "I…I need you to remember me this way, your best friend who cares deeply for you, and gives you all his blessings, no matter which Hell or Heaven he is brought to."

Her heart twisting mercilessly at his words, she kept weeping, tears flowing freely onto his palm raised to cradle her face. He kissed her again on the corner of her mouth, and clutched at her waist as if to steady himself, resting his forehead against hers. They both closed their eyes, simply breathing in each other's scents. That moment seemed to stretch for several eternities while her lips still tingled pleasantly. She reveled in his warm presence, intoxication filling her mind with visions of him and her on a romantic boat trip, sunshine pouring down on them, and dulcet birdsongs blended with sweet nothingness in their ears.

"Hermione," He was calling her name again, his voice rather throaty, rousing even more erotic images in her brain, "We, the Golden trio, have always known to do the right thing…" He repeated something about doing right, yet meanings soon got slipped out of words for her, only tendrils of his soft hypnotic voice and light strokes on her hair penetrating her awareness. He was trying to push her away, yet she held onto him for dear life, nuzzling her head deeper in the crook of his shoulder, delirious with bliss and contentment, morbidly convinced he was feeling the same.

"H-her-r-m-mione!"He started, his voice dangerously breaking in total surrender. Cruel reality crashed down to her torpid mind when he looked entreatingly at her, intense pain lining every feature of his face, "I…must…go."

"NO!" She let out a wail of protest, groping for any way to detain him a little bit longer. She gripped his injured hand blindly and began to stammer, her chest tightening at the thought of sacrificing him for the entire wizarding world. "I…I mean…you need to…to look at least presentable…when you go to see him."

She was touching him everywhere she could, her hands trembling over the cut on his cheek and the front of his shirt damp with sweat, her fingers slightly grazing his scar and his tousled hair. Before he could voice another plea, she mustered all her resolve to step back, raising her wand to cast a healing spell and scourgify charm on him.

She chanced a glance at him, now clean and tidy in plain Muggle jeans and t-shirt, looking exactly like her best friend standing on the step of the Dursley's house, a grateful smile sparkling in his brilliant green eyes, when they came to get him last summer. She removed her Gryffindor brooch, the luck charm she'd gotten since she was sorted into the same house as the intriguing boy known as Harry Potter in her first year, and swiftly attached it on his left chest.

Adoration and pride swelling in her heart, her strong _faith_ in him kept her grounded as their eyes locked in an eternal yearning gaze.

"You are ready now." She gave him a shaky smile and started backing off urgently, her teary eyes lingering on his pale face.

He hurtled towards her, pulling her into a tight embrace, squeezing her despairingly, "I'll come back, Hermione,…for you," He brushed his lips against her hair time and time again, as she nodded in his chest, her tears soaking his clean shirt. A part of her knew he was making a promise he might not be able to keep, yet _hope_, however false it was, peeked out for the first time. She stood firm, dashing away her tears, forcing a bright smile at him, when he pulled apart, as suddenly as he hugged her, and not until his back got completely out of her sight did she fall to her knees, her eyes blinded with tears, more violent and bitter this time.

Her soul split in half, one writhing in pain in her spent body, the other had embedded in him when they shared the last hug.

* * *

Voices, too many different voices, were making her head hurt, monotonous instructions of professors, indistinct chattering from the students, muffled cries of panic and soothing words, wry laughs at someone's pathetic attempt at joke, low murmurs of friends as they clung to each other for support, and spasmodic groans of pain from the wounded.

None of them was his deep chuckle whenever she sent a mock glare at him, warning him of a class assignment deadline or his gentle whisper sending tingles all over her when he held her tight in his arms.

Sounds, a cacophony of sounds, were drilling into her ears, bouncing back from her eardrums, strong winds wheezing through the suit of amour fence, werewolves howling from the heart of the Forbidden forest, thundering steps of the giants behind the main gate, intermittent blasting of stray hexes and brick walls collapsing, and the solemn requiem sang by several students in the Frog choir.

None of them was his rhythmical breathing when he dozed off at library table, his bangs falling over his crooked glasses, or his squeals of ecstasy whenever he mounted his Firebolt, soaring up high and somersaulting in the air.

Rarely did her mind glimpse out of her forlorn shell to acknowledge that her good friends, all DA members, her housemates, many respectable professors and aurors were staying close to her, and that she was not alone in this agonizing hour of waiting, yet she was haunted with his heady scents, the feel of his warm breath on her face, and his blazing emerald eyes when he looked at her before turning away. Old memories coursed through her mind, rubbing wistful feelings against her heart bled by fresh memories of their intimate hugs.

She walked like a corpse through the rubble to the suspension bridge entrance, occasionally comforting a frightened first year student or mechanically performing some healing charms to anyone injured she met on the way.

She held her hand, stained with his blood, close to her left chest, craving for him, her lifeless eyes casting towards the dark lane to the Forbidden forest, blackness suffusing her paralyzed brown orbs. She felt nothing, not even fear. She had known, for a long time, and cried herself to sleep every night, willing her rigorous mind to face the inevitability of this. This, she also knew she would never accept, until she gave her last breath.

Her heart was entirely crushed, yet her willpower was fortified with his vows and his blessings. She was fully prepared to defend Hogwarts, to avenge her beloved and join him. Heaven or Hell, she didn't care, as long as they were together.

She was rooted to the spot as the towering figure of Hagrid swam into her sight, his head hung heavily, his huge teardrops falling on the unconscious body in his arms, her heart clenching in the one feeling she had thought she was completely resistant to, fear, intense, overbearing fear that blocked her blood streams and exhausted oxygen from the air surrounding her.

Hot tears surged in her sore eyes again, when Ginny rushed forwards, and kept shouting 'NO!' only to be held back by Mr Weasley. His tender voice whirling in her mind, _he did come back, but not for her, _somehow, jealousy momentarily overcame her entire being, in the most inane moment, at the thought of his few blissful weeks with the redhead.

She focused solely on the approaching half giant, taking no heed of the long line of black robes trailing behind, so she was utterly unprepared for the apparition of the darkest wizard right into the Viaduct courtyard. Sinister laughter from the skeletal black form confirmed her fear as the last sliver of life was squeezed out of her soul.

Voldemort was floating around Hagrid and whipping his wand in victory and nauseating delight. Screams of horror clashed with hurrahs of cheers.

She had thought that she would fight hard and she would want to strangle the madman who was rambling about his nefarious regimes for a future magical world. She did neither, her eyes transfixed upon the body carried by Hagrid, from the familiar Muggle clothing to the ruffled black mop, holding on to fierce denial, her chest hurt with each painful breath. She wouldn't believe it until she could look in his beautiful green eyes, and, together, they could waltz away to rosy clouds in paradise. The vista brightening in her mind, she quietly tore herself away from the crowd, making sure that Ron didn't see her.

Everyone was watching the verbal brawl between the most powerful wizard alive and the most timid Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, with rapt attention. None noticed a solitary small figure was striding past the scene, making for the coiled serpent in the debris.

No longer had she reached within less than 10 meters from the snake than it lifted its head up, thrusting out its forked tongue, baring its ivory fangs. Instead of flinching, she calmly stepped closer when the large reptile started to crawl towards her, hissing in heinous anticipation.

Her heart was thumping loudly in her rib cage, and her face broke into a wry smile at the prospect of letting the abject thing rest in peace forever. The reptilian monster was all ready to strike as she inhaled slowly, beset with a deluge of images of him, her smile getting bigger,_ Harry, I am coming._ However, before she could exhale, the snake exploded in front of her eyes, black smoke rising from the ruptured skull and squirming above the remains of the serpent.

Her eyes opened wide, piercing the thick billows of smoke, her heart giving painful lurch at an extremely familiar scream of her name distinct from the ear-splitting shrieks of the snake's master and his followers. She buried her fingernails into her cheeks to ensure that she was in neither heaven nor hell. She held her breath and tentatively called out. "Harry!"

"Hermione! You 're alright?" answered the voice at once, even more urgently this time.

She pushed herself through the cloak of the black smoke, and immediately tumbled to the ground upon seeing his concerned face, putting her face in her hands, crying deeply in an outburst of relief and joy.

tbc.

**A/N**: Time for a change, I 'd like to view things from both Harry and Hermione's POV this time.

it should be noted that my bunny plot does not revolve around the final battle, though it initially appears so. For me, there is only one happy ending for Harry, otherwise, I'd rather he died a hero, and Hermione 'll finally be united with him in heaven. Considering the epilogue, I am so tempted to kill off Harry. Should I, really ?


End file.
